


Sunk (For You)

by rise_from_the_bud



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Gay Male Character, M/M, Suicidal Harry, draco is concerned about harry, draco works at a place linked to st mungos, sorta slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:19:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rise_from_the_bud/pseuds/rise_from_the_bud
Summary: He didn't know what he would do. He definitely wasn't expecting this.(Harry attempts to kill himself, but is saved and is sent to rehabilitation, where Draco works. Multi-chaptered, unfinished)





	Sunk (For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Fred lives AU

Harry never thought he would end up doing this. But then, he supposes, no one did. The war has been haunting him. No one understood, not even Ron or Hermione. They had all lost a loved one, but Harry was the only one who still thought it was his fault. He’d been sitting in Grimmauld Place, and no one but Walburga Black had been living there. (But her presence wasn’t so comforting: she kept screaming at him about how mudblood filth had ruined her house, yadda yadda. And that was when her curtain was open, which was surprisingly often. Harry is clumsy. And loud.) And so now he’s standing here. Gazing out on the vast lake. The surface of the water sparkles in the sun. Harry gazes sadly out at it. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He takes a breath. Quite possibly his last, he realizes. He rakes a hand through his hair. Then he plunges into the icy cold water. What he doesn’t notice is a figure sitting at the shore, watching him closely. Moments later, he is beneath the water. He is losing air quickly. He’s about to pass out when he feels arms tugging him up, up, up. He vaguely wonders what’s happening. Then he’s past the water’s devastating grip. He can’t breathe. Soon, everything turns black. The last thing Harry thinks is, ‘Peace. Finally.’

****

Harry wakes up coughing and spluttering in a hospital bed. His glasses are missing from his face. “Wha..?” He chokes. This isn’t right. He should be dead. He realizes someone is sitting by his bed. He blinks. He can’t see anything. Quickly, someone supplies him with his glasses. His gaze turns to the person next to him. He vaguely realizes his hair is wet. Sopping, actually. His eyes clear to see Hermione and Ron sitting next to him. He notices that their hands are intertwined. “Harry!” Hermione sounds so relieved. Ron keeps quiet, although he lets out a soft sigh. They had both known about Harry’s survivors guilt, but they didn’t know it was this bad. “‘Mione,” Harry rasps. His voice is hoarse. “Oh, Harry.” Her voice breaks. “What happened?” He sits up and buries his face in his hands. “I was so... done. I don’t know.” “Harry, you have to understand that people’s deaths were not your fault. It was moldy Voldy’s fault.” Ron speaks up. His tone is daring Harry to contradict him. Harry narrows his eyes. “That isn’t true...” “Harry! You have survivor’s guilt! We all do! But you’re taking it to far: those people’s deaths were not your fault.” Hermione says. Harry looks up. His eyes are bloodshot. He opens his mouth something, but then decides against it. Hermione and Ron exchange worried glances. Ron stands up abruptly. “We have to go,” he says shortly. Hermione stands up too, and shoots Harry a worried glance. “We love you,” she says, and they are gone. Harry sighs. And then he realizes... “Who saved me?” The door creaks up. It’s, surprisingly, no one he knows. The man sits down. “Who are you?” Harry asks. “I’m Simon. I rescued you.” Harry’s gaping. Simon slides a hand through his yellow-blonde hair. He bites his lip. Finally, Harry responds. “Why?” “Because no one should die like that. They should die in their own time, not because they simply think it would be better if they were dead.” Simon’s eyes twinkle. He has a relaxed face, the kind of face that always had a slight smile. “Do you know who I am?” Harry questions. He realizes that he had not told the man his name. (Although, if the man was a wizard, he probably already knew.) “Nope.” Simon shakes his head. Blonde hair falls into his face. Harry realizes this man is a muggle. He does not know Harry. Harry holds out his hand. “I’m Harry.” “Nice to meet you, Harry.” Simon reaches his hand out to shake. They shake. Harry pulls his hand away. “I suppose I should thank you for saving me.” Simons laughs. “It’s no problem.” “Well, thank you anyway. Unfortunately, I still wish I were dead.” Simon’s face falls. “You can’t just go home and attempt suicide again.” Harry glances at his right arm. Even though the cloth is covering them up, the memory of his scars burns vividly behind his eyes. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to. But it’s the right thing to do. I don’t belong in this world.” “Yes, you do!” Simon’s eyes are flashing, and he stands up. “Whoever’s telling you this, this shit about yourself is wrong.” Harry winces. No one wants him to do it. But he wants himself to do it. He knows it, deep in his gut. It’s the right thing. He’s convinced. Simon has a look on his face like he’s about to make an important decision. Suddenly, he takes a piece of paper out of his pocket, and grabs a pen from the table next to Harry’s hospital bed. He scrawls something on it and hands it to Harry. “Here. My number.” He’s written, ‘Simon Smithwyck’, on the paper, which is followed by his phone number. Harry blinks up at him. “Thanks.” Then, Simon walks out of the room and can be heard talking to someone outside. Harry shuts his eyes and sinks into the pillows. He slowly falls into a restless sleep. The piece of paper rests on the table next to him.

****

A few days later, Harry finds out that he is going to be released from the hospital on one condition. He has to go to rehab. The lady at the desk writes down a location and time, and hands it to Harry. Simon’s number is burning a hole in his pocket. Harry shoves his hands into the pockets of his jumper, and his hair flops over his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll be there.” He had left his phone at home, so he could not type the number into his phone. He was not expecting to come back. Hermione and Ron had returned a few times over the past few days. He knows they are worried, and when he’s with them he tries not to act upset. He knows that they are secretly disappointed in him. He was supposed to be the hero- save the world, get settled with a nice woman and have children. Live to a ripe old age. But no. Instead, he is depressed, gay, and has attempted suicide at a young age. He’s only twenty-six. It’s ridiculous. Not what anyone would expect from the so-called savior. Harry glances down at the slip of paper. Tuesdays and Thursdays, twelve o’clock to three o’clock. He sighs and puts it in his pocket. He pulls out his wand and apparates back to Grimmauld Place.

****

It’s Tuesday, and Harry has apparated to the written location. He eyes the sign in front of the building warily. His phone is in the pocket of his jumper, and it buzzes. He pulls it out to find a text from Hermione: ‘Good luck.’ He frowns and doesn’t reply. Then, he walks into the building. It’s clean and shiny, and smells like muggle cleaner. Harry talks to the lady at the desk for a few minutes, and she directs him to a room. He pauses, standing outside of the door. He can hear muffled talking from inside, so he opens the door. The room is surprisingly comfortable. There are a few women and about two men. (That’s not counting the group leader.) Harry’s eyes are automatically drawn to him. He has platinum blonde hair, and is wearing jeans and a sweater. Harry wonders why he looks familiar. He can’t quite place a finger on it. Then he realizes: It’s Draco Malfoy. He wants to leave, but everyone’s eyes are drawn to him. (Not to mention that he actually can’t.) “Come in,” comes a familiar drawling voice. Harry scowls but moves inside. Draco’s more attractive than ever. Harry plops down in a chair and fidgets in silence. “Okay, where’s Danny? Has anyone seen them?” Draco says. He shoots a glance at Harry, who wonders who on earth that is. Everybody shrugs. About five minutes later, someone saunters into the room. “Danny, you can’t be late every time,” Draco says, but his eyes soften. They shrug and sit down. Harry toys with a loose thread on his jumper. Draco glances over at Harry, and he gasps softly. Harry buries his face in his hands awkwardly. “It seems we have a new guest,” he says. Harry looks up. “Hello,” he mutters. Everyone stares at him. He scowls. “So... Why are you here?” Draco asks slowly. Harry frowns. “I tried to kill myself,” he says bluntly. Everyone gasps softly. His eyes narrow. He crosses his arms. “Why?” Draco asks. “If you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to,” he clarifies quickly. “I’d prefer to keep that to myself.” He says. He lowers his head. Draco looks away from him. Harry’s heart twists. He’s been in love with Draco since, well, as long as he can remember. He can’t help but crave his attention. Draco’s hair falls over his face gracefully. Harry wants to kiss his face off. But he refrains. A few other people start talking, but Harry ignores everything and starts wallowing in his thoughts. Until someone clears their throat and Harry’s head jerks up. “What-” Draco is standing in front of him. Harry’s heart is in his throat. “I have to go.” Harry rushes up and out of the room. “Fuck.” Harry lets his head droop. For some reason, he hasn’t left the building. He’s about to walk away when the door opens and closes next to him. Draco steps in front of him. “Harry?” Harry’s eyes widen. “Malfoy?” Draco grimaces. “Draco. Can’t we put the grudge behind us?” “Uh, okay...Draco.” Draco has a strange look on his face. “Why did you leave?” Draco asks. Harry frowns. “I was uncomfortable,” he supplies. Draco quirks an eyebrow. “Lots of people are, their first time they come. But nobody walks out.” Harry buries his face in his hands and his phone buzzes. He ignores it. Draco has a sympathetic look on his face. “Look, I’ll let you go just this one time. But it won’t happen again.” “Alright.” Harry fingers his phone in his pocket. “Now, get out of here.” Harry heeds this and leaves quickly. Draco is left standing there, staring after him. “He’s... interesting,” he murmurs. He slides a hand through his hair and goes back into the room, muttering to himself.

****

Harry’s back at Grimmuald Place momentarily. “UGH!” He screams. He’s very frustrated. “This fucking SUCKS,” he grinds out. “Draco fucking Malfoy works there?!” He pulls out his phone, remembering the notification he had gotten before. It was a text from Simon. ‘Today is your first day of therapy, right?’ Harry smiles at the screen. Then he texts back: ‘Yep, but it didn’t really go as planned.’ He grimaces. A buzz: ‘What happened?’ ‘I walked out early.’ ‘Why?’ ‘No comment.’ ‘Ah, so you’re just going to ignore it...?’ ‘Yep.’ Harry turns off his phone and puts it on the table. He rakes a hand through his hair. “That fucking bombed.”

*******

Later, Harry is laughing along with Fred and George’s jokes. “Good one,” he croaks, his voice hoarse from laughing. Fred and George exchange a knowing smile and high five. Harry is grinning. Ginny is watching from the other end of the table. Ron is seated next to Harry, and he’s clutching his stomach comically. Arthur and Molly watch, smiling. It’s nice to see the whole family together again. Hermione is seated next to Fred and she’s trying not to laugh, but it’s obvious that she is failing miserably. In other words, a perfect family gathering. Until it wasn’t. George winks at Fred. Harry doesn’t notice. “So, Harry mate. How was this thing you had today?” Harry flushes bright red. “Um...” “Did Harry here have a tough time?” Fred mocks. Harry blushes again, but this time angrily. “Shut up,” he mutters. Fred and George look at each other, smirking. “Shut up,” someone says. It’s Ron. the redhead’s face is flushed and he’s grimacing. “I can’t believe it, Ickle Ronnie!” George exclaims. He then puts a wounded expression on his face. “I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Ron mutters. “But it’s unnecessary.” Fred raises his hands in defeat. “Just messing around, geez. Calm down.” Ron frowns but doesn’t reply. Harry grimaces and rakes a hand through his hair. “Just- let’s change the topic, okay?” He begs. “Alright.” George shrugs. He and Fred exchange smirks, but they don’t pursue the subject. Harry is left in a fog for the rest of the night. Hermione looks closely at him, wondering what’s wrong. He’s refusing to tell them. Harry’s eyes are fogged up. He doesn’t speak much anymore, and leaves early. Fred and George clearly didn’t mean to bother Harry this much, but it still happened. When Harry gets home, he collapses to the floor. A tear slides down his cheek. “This fucking sucks,” he hisses. He runs to the upstairs bathroom, a crazy look in his eyes. He grabs a razor and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. A first cut. Blood wells up. A second cut. Blood drips down from his arm. He’s full-on sobbing now. “FUCK!” He screams, and drives the razor into his arm. Blood streams down and he falls to the floor. The last thing he sees is someone yelling, “FUCK!” In front of him. Their legs are in front of Harry’s face. Then everything turns black.

*****

Harry wakes up groggily. “Unnnghhh,” he groans. He looks away from the person standing next to him. Draco. “Fuckety fuckers,” Harry mumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut when he feels someone poking him. “Stoppit,” he mutters. A soft voice comes from above him. “Why did you do that?” Harry opens his eyes. He’s lying on the floor. Draco is kneeling next to him. “Why are you here?” Draco grimaces and his cheeks redden. “I - I wanted to check in on you after earlier?” Harry shrugs, and Draco’s eyes narrow. “Why did you cut yourself?” Harry snorts. He had totally forgotten. He lifts up his right arm, which is bandaged heavily. “Reasons.”

**Author's Note:**

> There will be another chapter. I promise xx  
>  but for now, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted a fic. I've just been busy. ;)   
> Anyway, I've been occupied, and I don't get a lot of time to write. but I'll get the next chapter out as soon as possible.   
> Not sure when.


End file.
